


Ceceile

by Lidia1357



Series: The Modern Women of Thedas [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Evil Uldred is Evil, F/M, Major Original Character(s), Mentions of Dragon Age Asunder, Minor Story Changes, Modern Character in Thedas, POV Original Character, Pre-Circle Attack Cullen, Templar/Mage Romance, Young Cullen, part one of a series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-02-14 03:58:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12999354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidia1357/pseuds/Lidia1357
Summary: A young mage woman wakes up near Lake Calenhad with no memory of who she is or why she's there. She ends up in the Ferelden Circle where she learns of her new abilities, and meets the handsome and shy Templar, Cullen Rutherford. As she grows close to the Templar and some of the Mages and Tranquil in the Circle, she begins to remember her life before Thedas. A life where this world is only a story. Will fate tear her apart from her new life? Or can she change what she knows will happen? Part one of a series of Modern Character inserts.





	1. Memory Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoy this rather unusual story idea. For those of you hoping to see the character interacting with the Warden and the Blight, don't worry. It'll happen. I'm open to ideas and suggestions as we go, so feel free to send me some ideas! Thank you!

Consciousness slowly rose through the blackness. The first thing I felt was the cold ground beneath me. Then, as my senses slowly returned to me, I could smell the damp earth against my cheek, and hear birds chirping in the trees blowing in a soft breeze. Slowly, I open my eyes.  
Where am I?  
Memories blurred together through my mind.   
Walking down the street.  
Working late.  
A hundred dollar bill.  
A sharp pain pulsed between my eyes and I winced against it. I pressed my hands against the cold dirt, but my strength failed me. A few inches off the ground and I fell onto my cheek again with a thud. The motion shook another bout of pain through my head and I groaned softly.   
Nearby, I heard heavy footsteps disturbing the dirt and gravel. I tried to speak, to ask who it is and where I am, but the pain was too much. I couldn't move. I felt something cold and metal against my shoulder and flinched. Someone spoke softly, but I couldn't focus on what he’s saying. A woman’s voice joins him, as they try to coax me to speak. I tightened my eyes and wince as the headache pounds harder and spreads to my temples. I feel myself being pulled to my feet, but I can’t find strength to stand. Eventually, a strong pair of arms holds me bridal-style, cradling me close to the metal body. Why would anyone be clad in metal? Trying to think about it only causes more pain. So I just let him carry me, and eventually lose consciousness again.  
I awaken in a much more comfortable position than last time. Warm, soft blankets are pulled to my chin, and the mattress beneath me is the right combination of firm and soft. My head still aches, but it is a dull thud and not the overwhelming pain from before. I blink back the sleep in my eyes and try to sit up.  
“Try to be still,” a woman says with a soft, british accent. “You injured your head a great deal. You’re still recovering.”  
That would explain the head pain. “What… happened?” I moaned, slowly opening my eyes. An elderly woman with a kind smile and soft eyes looked at me from a chair next to my bed. Her white hair was pulled back and her hands rested on her red dress. I squinted, trying to figure out where I’d seen her. The tickle of familiarity tugged at the back of my mind.  
“I do not know. A couple of Templars found you lying on the ground near the lake. Your head was swollen and you were not conscious when they brought you here. We did what we could, but I am not certain what you’ll remember, or if you’ll regain any lost memories. Do you know your name, Dear?”  
I frowned.   
Ceceile.  
No, that’s not right. That’s my Dragon Age name. My real name is… I know it begins with an ‘M’...  
The woman smiled again. “That’s alright. I’m sure it will come to you. You rest now. I will check on you again in the morning.”  
Before I could object, or ask her anything, she stood and left as gracefully as a dancer. Her long, red robe-like dress sweeping as she turned. Before I fell back asleep, I realized she had some sort of stick strapped to her back. How odd.  
I dreamt about home.  
Few people understood me, and many bullied me throughout my life. I couldn’t count how many times I’d heard “burn the witch” from the Christian children who didn’t care for my family’s beliefs. It seems being Wiccan isn’t any more accepted now than it was during the Salem Witch Trials. All I really had to escape was Dragon Age. I played every game and all of the main DLC’s. I felt for the Mages. I understood them. To be ridiculed for using magic. Hated for it. Much as I disagreed with his methods, I always sided with Anders. I helped the mages in the Ferelden Circle, and took the In Hushed Whispers path in Inquisition.   
Even when I moved to Sedona, Arizona, a place full of magic and powerful energy, I felt I wasn’t at home. I only felt right when I played. It was odd, and I never told anyone about it, but it was the truth. My dreams carried me through memories of my life, until I opened my eyes again and the strangeness of where I was pulled them away, washing my memory back to the blank state that it was all over again.  
This time, a man in heavy armor stood over me. He appeared older, probably a decade or so younger than the woman who had tended to me before. He stood very straight with a friendly, yet stern gaze.   
“I trust you are feeling better?” He asked.  
I could only nod. What was a man doing dressed in a suit of armor? Is this some sort of cosplay? I felt it unwise to ask this. The seriousness in this man’s eyes mean business.  
He nodded once. “Good. Our healers tell me you likely will have sustained memory loss. This is unfortunate. However, you are welcome to remain here with the other mages. Just don’t cause trouble in my Circle.”  
Mages? Circle? This has to be a cosplay!  
The man must have sensed my confusion, or read it on my face. “You have forgotten you’re a mage?”   
I blinked and frowned, trying to understand. It brought the pain back to my head and I winced. I couldn’t make sense of what was going on. Every time I tried to think it brought on more pain. So I just listened.   
“Greagoir, I hope you aren’t frightening my patient.” The elderly woman said as she entered the room. The armored man turned to her with weary eyes.  
“Not intentionally, no. However, it seems she has lost so much memory that she is unaware of her own abilities. I suggest she begin studies with the children until she remembers how to control her magic.”  
The woman’s face darkened to a grim frown. “I was hoping she would begin remembering. Do you know your name yet?” She looked at me with a small smile and hopeful, crystal eyes.  
Ceceile.  
I groaned inwardly. It’s as good a name as any, for now.  
“Ceceile…” I cleared my throat. It felt as if I’d never used my voice before. “My name. It’s Ceceile.”  
Her smile brightened. “There’s some progress. What a lovely name. I’m Wynne. This man is Knight-Commander Greagoir, and don’t worry, he’s not as intimidating as he looks.” She shot him a smirk full of mischief, and he seemed to fein hurt.  
“I wouldn’t listen to her. She’s old and lost sense.” He turned to me. Wynne crossed her arms disapprovingly behind him, glaring at the back of his head. “The rest of the mages are gathered in the dining hall. Wynne has offered to show you around after supper. You will begin study tomorrow morning, and will have a nightly check in with the healers until they’ve decided all damage is gone. Do you have any questions?”  
My mind swam. Uh, yes. Who are you? Why are you talking about mages and circles? Why do you both look familiar? Where the hell am I?  
“Let’s try not to overwhelm her.” Wynne said quickly. “If you have any questions later on, don’t hesitate to ask me or anyone else. Everyone is aware of your situation. And if you remember anything, let me know right away. Come with me, now, you haven’t eaten in over a day.”  
The sudden rumble of my stomach left little room for argument. So, with a heavy heart and a knot in my stomach for every unanswered question I had, I left the comfort of the bed and followed the woman out the door. Greagoir followed us out and left us once we entered the hall, grumbling about paperwork as he left. I still had no idea what was going on, or why I can’t remember anything other than my Dragon Age name, not even what Dragon Age is. So I played along and followed Wynne down the stairs.


	2. The Circle

“You must be the newest arrival. I am pleased to meet you. I’m First Enchanter Irving,” an elderly man said kindly as we entered a grand hall packed full of people in robes and surrounded by dutiful men and women in armor. They made me feel uneasy. What was so dangerous that we needed to be guarded by people in suits of armor? The symbol on the breastplates pulled at my subconscious, but the more I tried to dig for the familiarity, the more the memory eluded me.   
I offered the man a smile. The name pulled at my subconscious as well, but just like everything else, I had no idea why it was familiar. “I’m Ceceile. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”  
“How polite. Why don’t you sit at this table, Dear? We’re all older mages, but I know everyone here will be welcoming.”  
“Thank you.” I followed him to a table filled with other, older men and women. All wore robes. I looked down at myself and frowned, realizing that I was wearing one as well. A simple, sky-blue robe with a white corset around the middle. How had I not noticed before?  
“This is Ceceile. Ceceile, I’d like you to meet Namira,” He pointed to a woman with salt and pepper hair that was pulled up into a tight bun, hard blue eyes and an olive green robe, “Edward,” next to her sat a bald man whose milky eyes didn’t focus on anything. He turned his head in Irving’s direction and flashed a smile that just sang of mischief, “Ulen,” next a small woman with long, silvery hair that hung down her back. Her black eyes glittered as she smiled like one of the sweetest grandmothers you’ll ever meet. I liked her right away. “And finally, Brem.” Brem was a scrawny, old man with a low ponytail and amber eyes that seemed to hold the world’s wisdom. They each greeted me in their own way I did the same as I sat down sandwiched between Wynne and Irving.   
An empty plate sat in front of me, and simple silverware next to it. In front of me, were platters of different dishes. All simple, but clearly homemade. No store-bought foods here. I couldn’t help but feel impressed. Not many cooks would do so, especially with so many mouths to feed. I glanced around the dining hall to see just how many that was. Not counting the armored people, it was certainly a lot.  
“What would you like to eat sweet child?” Ulen asked with a sugary smile. “There’s a couple different soup options, a druffalo steak, some chicken, vegetable platters. Take your pick.”  
“She can figure it out herself Ulen!” Namira snapped as she snatched up a chicken leg. Her face twisted in bitter annoyance. “She lost her memory, not her witts.” She looked up at me, sizing me up. I felt like she wanted me to feel intimidated, but I’d dealt with tough women before. I couldn’t remember any examples, but I know I have. She means well. “Well, don’t need to wait for the fade to open up. Eat something and put some meat on your bones. You’re as skinny as an elf!” She emphasized her words with a rather graceless bite into her drumstick. I tried not to giggle.  
“Now Namira. There’s no-” Wynne began.  
“No, she’s right. I should eat. Thank you Ulna, Namira,” I said softly as I reached for a chicken breast and drizzled the gravy over it. I added a spoonful of vegetables, none of which I could identify, and a piece of obviously homemade bread. I had never had bread that wasn’t bought at a store and pre-sliced. This certainly felt like a treat.  
Irving chuckled. “She’s already fitting in.”  
I ate in silence while I listened to the others converse. They stuck to lighter subjects, but I could feel a tension boiling under the surface, as if they were dying to speak of dire matters, but refrained for my sake. Grateful as I was for it, I felt a wave of guilt wash over me as I chewed on my mystery vegetables. I couldn’t place what they were from taste or look, but they weren’t unpleasant to eat. The gravy was divine. I’d never tasted something so wonderful. Nothing a mix could have achieved in a million years. Nothing beats the homemade, and I’d been missing out.  
“If you are ready, I’ll give you a tour of the Circle.” Wynne said quietly, waiting patiently beside her empty plate. She had finished eating a while ago, and it suddenly occurred to me she might have been waiting on me this whole time. She hadn’t been talking with the others much. This might not even be her circle of friends. My gratitude for her swelled and I immediately nodded, setting my silverware down on my plate.   
The table said their goodbyes to us as we took our leave, and I followed Wynne through the Circle.   
“We have a library full of knowledge. If you are fond of reading, I highly suggest giving it a look. This is the stockroom, where the Tranquil keep do their work, the rooms are on the next level where yours is. This is the supply room where wands, runes and staffs are kept. And at the top of the tower is where the Harrowing Chamber and is and where the phylacteries are kept. Below are the dungeons and the barracks where the Templars sleep. You will join the children to learn from Tamra. She’s about your age, so you should get along swimmingly. That will happen on the third floor in the large, middle room. Do you have any questions?”  
Harrowing? Phylacteries? Templars? Tranquil?  
Wynne must have read my blank eyes. She laughed lightly, “I apologize. Do not worry, it’ll all make sense soon enough. In time. Even if you don’t regain your old memories, there are plenty of new ones to gain. Now, you should get some sleep. I’ll lead you back to your room. This place can be rather large if you’re not used to it.”  
She can say that again. The stairs alone have to be a workout and a half. Strangely enough, I didn’t seem to be out of breath by the time I made it to my room. I’m certain I’m not that well in shape. Though I can’t even remember my proper name, so I shouldn’t be surprised I don’t know my fitness level.  
Wynne bade me goodnight after leading me to my room. I thanked her for all her help as politely as I could, but my head was killing me by then. Too much activity, I suppose. Once alone again, I took in the dark room. Other than the bed, there was a large chest at the end of it, a dresser and a vanity. No pictures, plain carpet, and wooden walls. No wallpaper. The window was fancy for what I was used to, designed like a small rose window like the old churches have. I looked out of it to see a grand lake that stretched as far as I could see. I could barely make out the outline of a huge castle in the distance. I pressed myself against the cold glass as glee warmed my heart. I’ve always wanted to see a castle! I wonder if they’ll let me visit it!   
Once the excitement wore off, and my headache thudding in my head became less bearable, I unlaced the awkward boots I was wearing and slipped beneath the blankets again, drifting back to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

I decided very quickly that I do not like Tamera. Not at all. She seemed alright at first, once I stepped through the door. After that, however, it all went downhill.  
First she criticized me for being late in front of all the children. Her fiery hair that hung over her shoulders highlighted the glint of evil in her emerald eye. I tried to explain that I was lost and needed help finding my way, but she would hear none of it. She snapped at me to take a seat in the back, and returned to her lecture. I held back my grumbling and did as she said, trying to resist the urge to behave even more childish than the actual children around me. All of which, seemed quite uncomfortable to have an adult learning with them. I didn’t blame them.  
“Now, as I was saying,” she pointed her sharp eyes at me. I imagined her face morph onto the head of a snake. Her tongue slithering out between her teeth as she spoke. “Magic can be dangerous. Mages, are dangerous. That is why we live in the CIrcle. So the Templars can protect us from ourselves and each other. Not to mention protecting Ferelden from us. My job is to teach you how to control the magical urges inside of you, and to teach you the basics so you can pass your Harrowing one day.”  
The shudder among the crowd was not lost on me. I wanted to raise my hand and ask what the Harrowing was, but I resisted. I had little doubt she would refuse to answer, or do so sarcastically. No sympathy for the brain damaged here.  
“Now, all stand.” We did so, “Hold your hands out in front of you like this, “She held her hands palm-up in front of her, “and feel the magic channel through you. I want you to imagine a blue light. Let it trickle through your fingers and seep out of your palms. Allow it to become a ball in your hands, but do not let it go. Don’t drop it and don’t let it go out. Hold it as long as you can.”  
It all sounded odd to me, but I could easily feel the blue energy around my body. Like breathing or a heartbeat, something you feel and have but aren’t aware of unless you’re focusing on it. I hold my hands out as I’m told, and do as she says. I feel a warmth slide down my arms and pull out of my palms and into my fingertips, and before I know it, a blue ball of light is forming in my palms.  
I nearly drop it with my shock, but catch myself last minute. However, they flicker out the moment I do and I’m suddenly left empty-handed. Tamra doesn’t take longer than a second to call me out and order me to sit down. Judgement rolls off of her as I do so. I glower at her from behind the children who have a more difficult time conjuring this ball than me, and most of them try a couple of times before they manage to hold it.   
I grit my teeth and deal with it. I’ve had difficult teachers before… I think.  
I quickly learn to control the energy in my body, and pass out of the children’s class within a month. Over that time, I get to know the mages from the table at the first night, as well as a couple of new people. A young, Elvhen man named Alarin. I learned pretty quickly he liked to cause mischief around the Circle. The first day I met him, he’d hidden a roast pig in Greagoir’s bed, which scared the man half to death when he finally retired for the night. He also liked to leave cat feces in the Templars’ boots. Another person I met, was a small girl named Lilian. She came into the Circle around the same time as me, and we met in Tamra’s class. Her sapphire, blue eyes glittered with knowledge beyond her years and her brunet braids hung low down her back. She seemed to adopt me as an older sister the moment she met me, and I couldn’t possibly deny such a sweet child’s wishes.   
“You seem to be fitting in nicely. I’m only sorry you haven’t remembered anything new.” Wynne said as we walked to the library together. We hadn’t gotten super close, but she always seemed to check in on me, which I appreciated greatly. “I’m glad to see it. I wanted to see if there’s anything I can do for you before I depart. A good handful of us will be heading to Ostagar soon, so I won’t be here for a while.”  
I stopped in the doorway and looked at the older woman with wide eyes. I’d heard about the war going on, and how the battles were being fought at Ostagar. How the cruel and unusual creatures called Darkspawn were the threat they were facing. And now some of the mages were to join? What if they didn’t return? What if-  
Wynne smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder. “It is our duty as Ferelden citizens to aid the King, my Dear. I’m sure it will all be fine and we will return with the grandest of stories.”  
I wasn’t so convinced. I’d seen sketches of these Darkspawn, and found a dark and familiar feeling when looking at them. I must have encountered them before I lost my memory. Maybe even fought one. I shuddered at the thought, and pray I never see one in person. I nodded without much conviction as we continued on our walk to the library. On the way, I caught sight of Uldred and his little minions. I held a stony face as I walked on. Wynne bade me farewell as she turned toward Uldred, probably to talk about some senior enchanter business. How she didn’t see the evil glint in his eye was beyond me. I didn’t care for him the moment I met him, but I couldn’t figure out why. No one else seemed to have a problem with the unusual mage, some even liked him. I couldn’t bring myself to share the sentiment. Did I meet him before I lost my memory? He’s never approached me or mentioned seeing me before. Maybe I heard something about him? I… I suppose, it could simply be me. I could just not like him simple as that.   
The twisting in my gut told me otherwise.  
I kept my eyes on Uldred as I continued walking, and my lack of attention caused me to bump into something metallic and cold. I jumped back immediately, a cold stab of fear shooting through my chest. I hadn’t had any bad run with the Templars yet, but I’d heard the whispers behind closed doors and in the night. Some Templars were simply tyrants who hold their power over mages in an unjust manner. Even if I hadn’t seen it, I couldn’t help but believe them. I felt the truth in my heart. So as I stared up at this young Templar, words I barely understood rolled through my mind.  
Tranquil.  
Blood Mage.  
Annulment.  
His pale eyebrows shot up and he held his gauntlet-clad hands up in peace. “I apologize, m’lady. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He spoke with a soft voice that put me at ease right away. It was like the gently hand of a breeze as it stroked the branches of a calm wood. Familiar, and yet not. I regained my composure and cleared my throat with a forced laugh.   
“No, no it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry.”  
The young man flashed a half-smile that I swear was trying to melt my heart. “No harm done. You’re Ceceile, correct? The new Mage who has no memory?”  
I nodded, unsure of what to say. I was surprised, to say the least. I didn’t know many Templars cared about what was going on with the Mages. So long as we don’t use blood magic, become abominations or run away, they don’t seem to care what’s going on.   
“I am Knight Captain Cullen. It’s nice to meet you. I would have made my introductions earlier, but my duties kept me busy. Has the Circle treated you well?”  
I idly scratched my face, trying to decipher this man’s true intentions. At a glance I’d put him at early to mid twenties. Maybe he wants to be able to tell all of his buddies he made it into a Mage’s bed and lived? But Knight Captain? Maybe he’s older than he looks. He could just be one of the few friendly Templars. But it wouldn’t be smart to let my guard down. “I’ve made some friends. Wynne has been kind, and Gregoir was quite accommodating.”  
He nodded once, “He is a good man. I’m honored to serve with him. Oh, but if you’ll excuse me. I believe Wynne would like your attention, and I must be returning to my duties.” He nodded in farewell and flashed Wynne a small smile before walking on. His armor clanked as he departed. I watched him exit the library with an odd fascination.  
“Well, that was interesting. Would it seem you’ve caught young Cullen’s attention?” Wynne asked with a glint of mischief in her eye.  
I folded my arms and shot her a glare. “He’s a Templar, Wynne.” What Mage would go near a Templar that way? That she was inferring such a thing was, frankly, insulting.  
Her smile didn’t waver. “Not all Templars are as Mages make them out to be. Why, the father of my son is a Templar. But that’s a story for another day.”   
Without giving me a chance to respond, Wynne tapped my shoulder lightly and wandered off on her own, leaving me to gawke rudely behind her. A million questions ran through my mind.  
Wynne has a son?  
Wynne slept with a Templar?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is taking so long. College and all. I'm doing my best!

“Hello, Ceceile.”  
The sudden presence behind me startled me to a jump, nearly knocking over my brewing stand in the process. I caught it in time and turned to see who the sudden intrusion was. I was told I wouldn’t be interrupted while I practiced making poultices, balms and potions. Tranquil or not, Aieena, my mentor, wasn’t impressed with my slow progress. Neither was I.  
Cullen ducked his head sheepishly, his hands hanging at his sides. “I apologize if I startled you. I was instructed to gather all of the mages to the main hall for the farewell. I’m certain you’d wish to give your best wishes to the mages who are to go to Ostagar.”  
The sound of wood clattering to the stone floor was my only indication that I had dropped my stirring rod. “What? But they weren’t to leave until tomorrow!”   
Cullen knelt to pick up the stick, his armor clicking and clanking as he moved, and offered it to me with a face that could only be sympathy. Odd, I had thought all of the Templars would be eager to be rid of half of the mages. “King Emeric is in need of them sooner. There have been mostly successful battles so far, but his advisor Loghain felt some extra hands couldn’t hurt.”  
“I see…” I snuffed the flame under the brewing stand and picked up my silverite staff before following Cullen out of the apothecary office. Looking at the staffs, I expected them to be a heavy nuisance against the back. It felt like a long, wide feather as I strapped it to my back.   
We walking in tense silence up the stairs to the main hall. A couple of other Mages and Templars passed us by, nodding in polite greeting. I pulled at my fingers as I walked, chewing on my thoughts. Who all was leaving? How many would return?  
When we arrived in the main hall, I spotted Wynne, Namira, Edward, Ulen and Aieena among those preparing to leave. I forced a smile for them, but I was far from happy for them. Ulen caught my gaze and shot me a reassuring smile. I tried to return it, but my lips felt heavy. I couldn’t even place where the fear came from. It’s not as if I’ve encountered a darkspawn myself before.   
Cullen wandered over to where the templars were standing. A small handful were to accompany our brave Mages to King Cailin’s camp, and the rest were to remain here to watch over us. Irving stood before the mages who were to depart and offered a speech of bravery and pride that I didn’t listen to. Lilian found me in the crowd and clung to my robes, her bright eyes full of fear. Even so young, she could see the danger they were facing.   
I caught First Enchanter Irving’s eye as my gaze wandered over the mages. He seemed puzzled, as if pondering something. Before I could think on what, Wynne approached me. Her golden robes shone in the firelight as she moved. Her hair was tied back, just as it was the day I met her. She wore that same, soft smile that she seemed to always wear. “I’ve noticed your concern. It is touching, but you will do us all more good to focus your energy on your apprenticeship and less on worrying over us. We do what we must for our king. For Fereldan.”  
She was right, as always. But it still didn’t feel right. I smiled down at Lilian and knelt down to meet the child at eye-level. “I think Alarin is calling you.”  
Her eyes lit up and she hurried off to look for him. Trouble as he was, Alarin had looked out for Lilian since I’d introduced the two. He wouldn’t admit it, but I had a sneaking suspicion that she reminded him of his sister. He hadn’t seen her since the Templars took him to the circle. He talked little of her. I could only piece together what was mentioned in passing. What I had deduced, wasn’t a happy tale. Like many of the Mage stories.  
I returned my attention to Wynne, and allowed some of the grim feelings to show on my face. “I have a sickening feeling, Wynne. Something horrible is going to happen while you’re gone.”  
She brushed me off as panicked and worried, but I could see the flash of fear in her eyes. Did she feel it too?  
“Ceceile, I apologise for the interruption, but the Senior Enchantors and Circle Mages must go now, and I must ask you to follow me.” Irving said from beside me. I nodded without question and offered Wynne a parting, dark glance. I said my peace. What she does with it is her choice.   
Irving led me to the Circle steps, following a couple of Templars. One a large woman with short, blonde hair and an equally large man without any hair to speak of. “You seem to be excelling quite well in your studies,” Irving noted as we walked.  
I shrugged with one shoulder, my mind half on what he was saying, and half on the mages leaving the Circle. “I still can’t brew a potion to save my life.”  
Irving chuckled. “No one is talented in every aspect. Regardless, I believe you’re ready.”  
This caught my attention. “Ready?” I asked, slowing my steps. I looked up and realized how long we’d been walking, and just where we were as an icy hand gripped my gut.  
“For your Harrowing.”


	5. Chapter 5

“No… I’m not ready!” I glanced up at the looming door ahead of me, staring from above as if daring me to enter. Beautiful, and terrifying in all its glory. “I’ve been an apprentice for-”  
“How long,” Irving interrupted softly, “is irrelevant. You are ready to face the demon.”  
Or else. I added silently. I glanced around at the handful of Templars gathered around, including Cullen, who, I hoped, wasn’t assigned to kill me should I fail. I didn’t trust the Templars, but he seemed the most… human toward Mages. If not a bit shy. I wasn’t a fool. I know the choices I have. It’s the harrowing, or tranquility. I’ve met the Tranquil. My body never fails to ice over at the passive, almost, dare I say dead, look in their eyes, and the glaring sunburst brand that covers their foreheads. I would rather die than be made Tranquil. I looked back at the looming door ahead of me, and then at Irving, and finally drew a shaky, long breath.   
“Okay. Let us begin.”  
They led me through the doors and the ritual began. I closed my eyes, my thudding pulse drowning all other sound out, and when I opened them again, I wasn’t in the Circle.   
A soft blue-grey circled around me, and small whisps fluttered around playfully, looking at me with curiosity and jumping with excitement before continuing on. A small smile touched my face at the sight. Fields stretched ahead of me, all swaying in a nonexistent breeze. Irving must not have called the spirit here yet.  
I blinked and frowned at my word choice. It may be a spirit, I suppose. Either way, I can’t be possessed by it. I must be cautious. I took a single step closer to the field, and noted a shimmering, emerald form in the distance. Curiosity pulled me closer to it, and found it to be a glowing, human-shaped entity sitting cross-legged in the grass, running its fingers along the tops of the wheat grass as if lost in thought. I stood before it, noting a lack of facial features, and hesitantly sat down, mirroring its pose. “What are you doing here?”  
It stopped and looked up at me, I think, and resumed what it was doing. “Helping.”  
“Helping?” I echoed. “Helping who?”  
“You.”  
My brows furrowed together. “Me? How?”  
It stopped again and seemed to ponder my question. I don’t know.It cocked its head to the side. You called me to you. Don’t you know what you need?”   
Realization pulled the blood from my face. This can’t be the demon summoned to tempt me? Is it grooming me, getting ready to offer something in order to possess me? This seems an odd tactic, if true. I didn’t reply to it’s question, so it pondered further.  
“Cold, dark, memories lost from a time before. You are searching for something. ‘Why am I here?’” It whispered the final question then seemed to look directly at me. Your mind. You must heal your mind. Restore what you’ve forgotten.”  
I moved to stand, my fingers gently touching my staff. “Who are you? Are you a demon? Trying to tempt me with healing and memory restoration?”  
Even though I was standing, holding my threatening stance, it sat still, calmly looking up at me. “I am Compassion, and I cannot heal you. You must find what you are searching for. But you cannot leave without killing me.”  
It said it all so softly, as if we were discussing the weather. No fear, no pain, no charm. This was no demon. “I can’t kill you! You’re not a demon! I-”  
“They can not see.” It said plainly. “You must kill me. Or appear to kill me.”  
My staff began to lower on its own. A whisp circled it happily before zipping along on its merry way. “Appear to kill you?”  
Compassion nodded. “Yes.” It stood and held a hand out. “You will leave here, and I will try to help. You won’t be possessed, and I will not pass through. They will not know.”  
Before I could ask it how, it touched my forehead and my eyes closed. Just before they opened in the Harrowing chamber, the whisper of the word Fear passed my mind.   
Irving and Cullen were hovering over me, looking for any signs of possession. I pressed my palm to my forehead and groaned at the dull ache between my eyes.   
“I’m sorry, but we need you to stand,” Irving said gently. “We need to test you for possession. What demon did you face?”  
The word “Fear,” passed my lips without thinking as I was guided to my feet. Cullen unsheathed his sword and pointed it at my throat. I flinched back, but didn’t reach for my staff. An abomination will try to protect itself. Noting my reaction, he replaced his weapon as Irving scanned me for demon presence.  
With a nod of approval, and if my eyes weren’t failing me, slight praise, Irving patted me on the shoulder. “Then I welcome you to the Circle, sister Mage. Congratulations. You have passed your harrowing.  
A weak smile pulled at my face in spite of the growing pain spreading over my forehead. I had worried that the spirit was indeed a demon, and the pain was it’s presence. But this was real, no trick of the Fade, and I am not possessed. Perhaps I fell on my head when I went through. Whatever the reason, I’m certain some rest will help. My harrowing is over and I’m safe from Tranquility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to make Compassion seem a bit like Cole simply because Cole is Compassion, but different enough not to actually be him (I apologize to anyone who had their hopes up that it's him). What do you think?


End file.
